


Harringsmith Oneshots [ENG]

by Lurch



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Harringsmith, I Ship It, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-01-16 10:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurch/pseuds/Lurch
Summary: English Translation of my Harringsmith Oneshot collection c:





	1. Ch.1

It's late when Quentin finally manages to arrive in the small, slightly run down train station in Hawkins. It has been a real odyssey, over eight hours he's been cramped in that train with other passengers.

But there he is, surrounded by traveling people as he lets his eyes wander over the many faces. There are many different kinds of people around him but, he only wants to see a very certain mop of brown hair.

Around him there are doves. Those feathery friends accompany him until he finally spots that man he's been hoping to see for so long. 

Brown locks of hair are immediatly shoved into his entire field of view as Steve Harrington grabs him by the waist and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

„Hey Steve.“ Quentin mumbles, his lips pressed against the others' shoulder. 

It doesn't matter what happens around them. Only they are important to each other at this point.

The exhaustion from the past hours is forgotten as they finally lay in each others arms.


	2. Ch.2

The living room is filled with crates and boxes. Hastly scribbled on the different boxes are words like 'Bedsheets', 'Christmas Decoration' and 'Cutlery' 

Finally they can start their new life, a future all for themselves. Quentin carefully wrapped the last coffee mug in a sheet of newspaper to place it within one of the many boxes. The one reading 'Kitchen ware'. At this point his fingers are sore from packing their stuff.

Almost nostalgically, he looks down from the kitchen window at the footpath where Steve is about to stow the common possessions. Quentin's lips turn into a gentle smile. The couple moves away from Hawkins; Get out of the small town, into the big city 

Perhaps the hustle and bustle that prevails there helps the two forget the terrible events of the fog. Although Krueger has disappeared from the scene for almost five years now, Quentin still has problems sleeping properly. 

With trembling fingers, he stashes the last cup and closes the box with tape to put it in the living room with the others. He hears the door of the apartment open. Quiet steps make their way through the hallway to where Quentin stands. 

Steve leans in the doorway, a grin so stupid in the face that only one madly in love can have. "Hey, Quentin ... Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Quentin only rolls his eyes, but then starts to giggle.


	3. Ch.3

It is quiet in the newly decorated living room. Only the quiet, regular breathing of the young man sleeping on the couch suggested that someone was in the room. The window is open, a gentle summer breeze blows in and brings a small breath of fresh air into the heated room. 

A second man enters the apartment through the front door, perhaps a year or two older than the other. He carries a paper bag full of groceries in his arms, his body adorns a blue sailor uniform. The cap of the uniform sits crooked on the brown hair. It hides the best part of him, at least that above the hips.

Steve walks along the photo-hung corridor, memorabilia of the relationship he and Quentin have been holding together for nearly three years now. He quickly stows the groceries in the fridge and the somewhat rundown closets. "Quentin?" He calls into the apartment.

When he gets no answer, Steve decides to look for his constantly overworked darling. In the living room there is a picture for the gods for the ice cream seller.  
Nestled in a self-made wool blanket lies the slender silhouette of his sweetheart, nestled against an ancient stuffed teddy bear.

Carefully, as to not wake the younger man, Steve creeps back into the hall and grabs a Polaroid camera that has seen better times.  
Steve shoots a picture with a click. Under normal circumstances, it is simply too difficult to take a picture of his loved one in a calm state.

Quentin makes a slightly annoyed sound as the flash brightens his face for a brief moment. Steve just chuckles quietly and sets the camera down on the coffee table before leaning over to Quentin and kissing his forehead.  
"Go back to sleep, sleepyhead. I will prepare dinner. "


	4. Ch.4

When the leaves slowly started to turn in a sickly shade of brown, two new figures appeared from the fog. Those two, while clearly confused about their current situations weren't in complete shock or freaked out upon learning the truth. 

While the girl, Nancy Wheeler, seemed more annoyed than anything else, as if this situation was a minor inconvenience the boy, Steve Harrington appeared to be at least somewhat concerned. Worried even maybe. 

His hands shook a bit as he worked on the engine in his spot next to Quentin. The Insomniac gave the Other a weak smile, just barely reaching his eyes enough to make it seem honest. 

Nancy sat in silence, focused solely on bringing the generator back to life. Deadly determination radiating off of her. Quentin knew better than to mess with her so he mostly left the woman alone.  
Still, both of them were new so they naturally made mistakes here and there which resulted in multiple loud explosions after they both connected the wrong wires a few times.

When they heard the killer approach, Nancy was already gone without a trace. Steve looked a little frightened now, uneasy at the lack of knowledge about this world.

Quentin was the one to react when his fellow Survivor seemed frozen in place. He grabbed the taller Boy's hand and dragged him along to hide at the hedge behind one of Lampkin Lane's many gardens. 

It was a bit of a squeeze but they managed to completely break line of sight to their bodies. Quentin, being the smaller and more lithely built of the two was tucked close to Steve's chest. He felt the Other's labored breathe quite literally down his neck.  
"Calm down" the Insomniac whispered into Steve's ear, gently squeezing his arm for reassurance. Still, Quentin flinched a bit himself when the sound of the wailing bell echoed through the streets. It was way too close for confort but he was sure the Wraith hadn't spotted them in their crouched position.

Hands pressed into the sides of his shirt, nails nervously digging into soft skin as Steve desperately tried to control his breath. Quentin had to admit, the guy had a painfully strong grasp. The way his fingernails squeezed him made the younger Teen wince.

Luckily for the two the Wraith soon seemed to loose interest in searching for someone around the engine and proceeded to kick it before he ultimately went on his merry way.  
Neither of them moved for a few seconds, both hyperaware of how close they were to one another, bodies bumping together in a few places.

Quentin kneeled halfway in the Other's lap, pressed chest to back. Still, he waited for Steve to release his grip. By now it had died down to the older Teen just idly groping his sides.

A bit awkwardly the Insomniac cleared his throat. Steve let go as if he'd been burned and fell backwards onto his arse. A light blush crept down his neck, flushing the Newcomer's entire face in an adorable shade of pink as his mouth opened and closed, no words ever leaving it. 

"Help me fix that gen?" Quentin suggested, a bit flushed himself. He hadn't looked at Steve properly before, but he had to admit the guy was handsome. Definetly his type. 

Quietly they made their way back to the unfinished generator. This time Quentin instructed Steve properly on how to do this and they weren't disturbed again until the entire engine was fully repaired, coming back to life with a echoing clinking noise.


	5. Ch.5

In a world where death and injury are a constant companion, where darkness lurks around every corner, there is little room for one to let their guard down. At first sleep just wouldn't come to most new arrivals within the Entity's realm. They were scared half to death, confused and exhausted yet wasted no thought on rest. Only after a while, when the horrid realization came; the realization of being stuck, of this being no nightmare or sick prank, then most would collapse from shock, exhaustion and sheer desperation.

After a while, the survivors adapted and slowly learned to rest somewhat properly. While nightmares were a thing even within this realm between reality and fantasy, nothing could even come close to the horrors the survivors faced in their waking state day after day. Still, no one judged when another woke up screaming or thrashing, eyes wide in fear. Steve Harrington jolted from his sleep with a silent scream on his lips. Breathing heavily he sat upright and looked around at the campfire. No one had noticed the Teen waking up. 

Next to him was another person, the one who HAD noticed Steve's awakening, eying him with half-lidded, blue eyes. "Another nightmare?" Quentin mumbled, voice drowsy with sleep. Steve while still shaking like a leaf nodded and leaned back the slightest bit. "Yeah...Will they ever get better? Makes you afraid to sleep...Even if they're still less scary than what waits out there. It sucks." With a quiet sigh Quentin sat up, his already unruly hair sticking out at all the odd angles, and scooted over next to Steve. He gently put a hand on the Other's chest to push him back into a lying position before Quentin lay back down, this time curled against his boyfriend's chest. "The nightmares won't get better." The Insomniac mumbled against the green fabric of Steve's sweatshirt. 

Quentin smiled to himself as he leaned his face into the crook of Steve's neck. "Gets easier to deal with 'em tho. And you got me. For safekeeping." The Younger whispered, already half asleep. At that, the older Teen chuckled softly. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I love you, you know that?" Carefully, as to not start Quentin to full wakefulness, Steve shifted until he was in a position where the smaller Teens upper body mostly lay on his chest. Steve gently ran his fingers through unruly locks before pressing a kiss on top of Quentin's head.  
With the Insomniac by his side, nothing would ever break Steve Harrington. No matter what the Entity threw at him, he would come out on top eventually. Quentin Smith was the one thing that made the fog, the trials, killers and their general situation...Well...it wasn't too bad if Steve had him.


End file.
